For Jonothan

Aboriginal people pass on their knowledge, skills, and experiences of their culture and land verbally - generation through generation. They have no history books. Verbal communication is the only way in which this critical information can be maintained – without it, they are lost.
I met a man tonight. Admittingly, i was a little drunk, so my judgement may be shaky. Even so, this man was the best i’ve ever met. He’s coming close to 90, and carries (with pride) a moustache like Mr Kentucky himself.
Jonothan is his name.
Jonothan and his wife decided not to have children. However, as the years passed, they realised that they did infact want children but by this time it was too late and Jonothan and his lovely wife could not conceive.
Jonothan’s wife passed away 18 months ago. She was an only child. He is an only child. His best friend died three years ago. They had no children. He has no family.
Jonothan cannot pass on his story, so I thought i’d give it a go.
I met Jonothan at the bus stop at 10 pm on a Friday night. He had been down at the union, because they hold a dance there every second Friday night for veterans and their mates. Jonothan goes there to dance, to talk, to not feel lonely, to pass the weeks.
Nobody wanted to dance with Jonothan tonight.
Nobody ever wants to dance with Jonothan.
Nobody wanted to speak with Jonothan tonight. I think they thought he was just a senile old man with bad intentions – the truth is, he just needed a friend.

He lost the best thing that ever happened to him 18 months ago, and i was one of the first people he was able to talk about it with. Me, a stranger at a bus stop.

Jonothan and his wife had met at Surfers Paradise, many many years ago. Though both Australian, they quickly moved to America just after they were married. First to New York, then to Washington DC. She worked in the World Bank, while Jonothan held many different jobs over the years – italian embassy, british embassy, the United Nations....Then Jonothan was called to war for a little while.

Jonothan and his wife moved back to Australia when the war ended.

Jonothan never marches in the ANZAC day parade. When I naively asked him why, he explained that the war was something he’d love to forget – not be reminded of every year. The phrase “lest we forget” is a slap in the face every April 25th.
Jonothan is a silent hero, many in his battalion know him, while he does not know anything about them.
Jonothan received all his medals in a lovely white box in the 1950’s – he doesn’t know what these medals look like, he’s never opened that box.



All Jonothan wants to do with the rest of his days is to do one last trip to America. To remember.
Even on an all expenses paid trip to America, he cannot find one person willing to go with him on one last journey.

Jonothan, I tried my best to retell your story. In the 30 minutes that i was able to speak to you, you touched my heart as the most amazing and courageous person i’ve ever met. Thankyou for telling me your story, I hope you make it to America - to remember.

Lest we forget.

Rebecca